Monster
by Anna Wang
Summary: It wasn't supposed to be like this. He had nothing left. '959,' he whispered.
1. Oh, won't you tell me?

Kaneki cracked his finger.

He was hidden in a dark corner of an abandoned warehouse he had stumbled upon in the earliest hours of the day, when he was utterly desperate for a sanctuary. Kaneki lay on the concrete, curled up between the intersection of the walls. Though the late night fog lay a tranquilizing layer over any sound that travelled the air, harsh, weary sobs of utter despair could be picked out from beneath formally white curls, now stained with crimson. The room, only defined by the rundown walls surrounding the space, was empty except for the mess of blood and bones on the floor and a sink topped with a dusty mirror.

The moon glistened down, lighting his face. Scratches inflicted by Kaneki's own dark nails littered his cheeks, but healed as soon as they appeared; it was a fruitless attempt to peel off his facades. Yes..his mask-a black piece of plastic with a red lipped smile-did protect his identity. But this mask that he wore day by day was something he could not take off.

Kaneki's eyes flicked over to the bloody mess on the floor. It smelled _so good_ and he was _so hungry,_ so a little bite wouldn't hurt _right?_ Saliva dripped from upturned lips and he stretched a blood encrusted hand towards the flesh. Just a little bite, he was so hellishly hungry _hungryhungryfleshjustalittlebitplease_ Kaneki cracked his finger.

 _Do you know what this is?_

"993."

 _It's called a Chinese centipede._

 _PainhurTSstopstoPSTOpstopStopgoaWay_ Kaneki sobbed and clutched his hair, dragging his nails over his cheeks in a vain attempt to drive the hallucinations from his mind. A bubble of laughter pushed its way through his lips as he grabbed at thin air, desperate for something to cling to, something to support him before the last vestiges of his sanity slipped out of his grasp. The blood on his hand caught his eye. Holding it up towards the moon, Kaneki tilted his head. Where had it come from? Then, a sudden thought; what did it taste like?

 _It's okay if I eat you, right?_

Kaneki froze, fist positioned in front of his mouth, and frowned. Slowly relaxing his fingers, he lunged forward and tore viciously at the digits.

"986."

Kaneki wondered what the liquid coming out of his eyes was. He lifted one of his fingers-now missing a joint-and smeared it against the salty fluid flowing down his marred cheeks. His breath caught, sharply, as a moment-just a second-of sharp clarity flashed into his eyes before his shoulders slumped as the light once again vanished from his iris'. One of his fingers twitched erratically.

"979."

Kaneki remembered wisps of gold, as yellow as the bright, fading sunset he had watched as a child. He stared at his unblemished finger. He couldn't really attach the color to a memory-not that he had a lot of those-but that was okay; he had a feeling that he didn't want to remember anyways.

A sliver of pink drool slid out from the corner of his mouth as his mouth opened in an unfinished sob. It was all his fault in the end, wasn't it? He couldn't save anybody. He couldn't even remember who he was supposed to save.

"972."

He cracked his finger.

He hated. Oh, how he hated. Kaneki cracked open a dull, grey eye and stared up at the open sky. But to feel emotion was to be weak, and he couldn't really remember what he was angry and sad about in the first place.

He let himself fall onto his side, a puff of dried blood dust dancing off of his crimson hair. It was a pretty colour, he decided, reaching up and twirling a pink strand with one of his black nails-almost as pretty as the stain on the ground. He slowly pulled himself on to his knees and crawled silently, desperately, hands pulling him towards to the pile of red decorating the cold concrete floor. A sweet aroma wafted into his nostrils, and it was all he could do to keep himself from salivating-it wouldn't do to desecrate the macabre beauty of the scene, after all. Kaneki gently lifted a glistening white bone off the ground, and pressed it against the side of his face, the corners of his lips tilting upwards.

The scent tickled at his memory, but he ignored it in favor of inhaling the utterly delicious smell that was so sweetbloodeA _teateateateattEaT_ He collapsed in the middle of the pool of decomposing flesh and blood, convulsing.

"965."

 _You'll let me eat you now, won't you, Kaneki?_

Kaneki painstakingly twisted his head towards the mirror, feeling a gaze. The moon reflected in the mirror, lighting the side of the mirror in white. The silence was nearly palpable, the last echoes of the voice gradually fading away.

There was a face-twisted, dripping with red-looking back at him.

Kaneki stared at the monster in the mirror, lips dry and cracking. It leered at him, arms encircled around Kaneki's shoulders, and black flowers flourished, bloomed under his skin wherever it caressed. It pressed its forehead against Kaneki's, and grinned.

A bead of sweat rolled down his face.

The bloody lips stretched grotesquely, and slowly shaped the hissing air flowing erratically out of its throat into words-as if it couldn't control its face properly. "You don't want to remember, do you, Kaneki-kun?" If possible, the lips seemed to grow even wider. "So I'll make you remember." Black overcame his vision with all the force of a sledgehammer, and red tears dripped over his lips as he clawed at his eyes.

Suddenly he remembered. And when he remembered, he screamed.

But the monster laughed hysterically, insanely with him when he recalled gold hair, gold eyes, a knowing smile. "Hide," he cried.

"952," he whispered.

I wrote a little of this each time on separate days, and had no real idea of how it was going to go. As you can see, this is frankly quite confusing. However, I hope you enjoy reading this!


	2. The way it's supposed to work

A street light flickered.

He kept his breaths even and deep, inhaling the sharp chill in the autumn air and trying to keep his rising hunger at bay. Kaneki slid down against the front, outer wall of Anteiku, and serenely watched at the sun climbed up into the sky, lighting up the clouds with bold shades of pink, navy, and red. There weren't any customers in the small cafe yet-it was still too early for any normal person to be awake.

Kaneki drummed his fingers on the cafe steps, cracking his knuckles haphazardly, puffs of white billowing out from between his lips. The sting of the wind was refreshing; it reminded him that he wasn't chained down anymore, hot and suffocating, _terror sOmething was digging into his brain-_

A blast of wind threw his white hair into his eyes, and Kaneki thrust up his arms against the sudden assault. When the sandy gales died down he cracked open his eyes, and, sighing, stood up and pushed open the door of the cafe.

.

.

.

Touka was staring at him again, a frown marring her face.

"Kaneki."

He refused to look at her. The obvious sympathy- _Touka's sympathy-_ itched at him, more painful and humiliating than any Kagune could have been. The porcelain plate he had been carrying to the sink lay in several pale, shattered pieces on the ground, and his hands shook.

"I'm sorry." His eyes were dull, and he wrapped his arms around himself. It had been instant: a sudden onslaught of incredible terror-his breath coming out in deep, quick gasps, his heart pounding so hard that Kaneki was sure it would burst out of his chest and cover him in a shower of crimson. It hurt to feel. He didn't _want to feel._ "I'm sorry."

"Kaneki, it's just a plate." Long, slightly callused fingers covered his, that were clenched around a soaked washcloth. He lifted his head to watch her, silent.

"Go see Hide." His mouth opened in protest, but the words stayed in his throat, choking him when Touka suddenly glared at him with sharp intensity. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Protecting us? No, fuck that, you're _hurting_ us by staying away! And, you know what? It's fucking insulting. Just how weak do you think we are?"

He shuddered.

"Just go see Hide. Please." Her eyes were soft now, but still so painfully sympathetic it made him want to cower in the corner. Kaneki breathed in and out, head slightly tilted; he couldn't see Hide. He didn't want to see Hide. Hide would see him, see what he had become, Hide would die, Kaneki would eat Hide-blood trickled out from beneath his nails. "Kaneki, stop!" He was crouched on the ground now with his head in his heads, droplets of red landing on pale strands and dyeing them pink. "Kaneki, stop it! What the hell?!"

Touka wished that she hadn't interfered when Kaneki lifted his head and flashed her the most pain filled smile she had ever seen, reminiscent of a black canvas made of plastic splattered with dark red ink.

Kaneki went.

In the broken, twisted world, there weren't many things that Kaneki was afraid of-and the ones that he _was_ scared of, he pushed away with desperate denial and foolish bravery.

He had always been good at that.

Standing in front of Hide's apartment, Kaneki didn't know what to think. There was an inescapable sense of dread building in his chest, but, he also had an undeniable need to just lay eyes on Hide's face. However, as always, he was good at denial. Instead of knocking on the door of Hide's apartment, Kaneki sat on a wooden bench set on a slope in the park, and waited.

.

.

.

Kaneki had never been a patient child. There were many times in his childhood that he would let go of his mother's hand and run off when he was bored, or pitch a fit when he couldn't get what he wanted. He was lucky that his mother had stopped that behaviour as soon as she could-it had hurt ( _Hurt rEallY baD)_ but he would always get treats afterwards. Kaneki shuddered involuntarily as he remembered how his mother would croon, "Good boy." He, Kaneki knew, was a better person because his mother was such a good parent. Kaneki swung his legs, toes dragging on the ground, hands twitching erratically.

There was a girl in the park, with pigtails that spun wildly as she pirouetted between the trees. She held a shiny, red balloon in her right hand, and screamed with laughter as her brother gave chase. Kaneki watched as the little boy pounced at the child, causing her to let go of her balloon. He watched as her mouth opened in a large wail and the shiny balloon drift away, glinting in the sun. Hide had given him a balloon once.

Abruptly, Kaneki stood up, turned on his heel and left.

Hide was late.

Back when he was human _(weak.)_ and went to Kamii University, Kaneki would walk back to his apartment with Hide. On other days, he and Hide would grab a burger or steak, and it was peaceful. They always left Kamii when they each finished their respective classes; seeing as Kaneki no longer went, Hide should have been back home over an hour ago.

He broke into a run.

As you can see, this is an AU where Kaneki returns to Anteiku after being tortured by Yamori; a continuation of the oneshot, and details the events that led up to the first chapter. In this story, Hide is _not_ dead or missing, like how it was portrayed in the anime/manga. Instead, he found Kaneki on the street, after his fight with Amon. I'm terribly sorry for the quality of this chapter; often, I couldn't find the proper words to express what I wanted to say.

In this chapter, the ideas are abrupt and interrupt the flow of the story. This was on purpose, done to mimic Kaneki's current state of mind: unstable. Anyhow, please enjoy!


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